


Pre-Show Pee Break - MISSED!

by justtoogaytofunction



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Desperation, HATAI, M/M, Phone Sex, Watersports, Wetting, hedwig - Freeform, peeing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4446275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtoogaytofunction/pseuds/justtoogaytofunction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren didn’t have time to take his ritual before-show pee before going on stage to do Hedwig. Now stuck in stage in front of hundreds of people, will he make it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pre-Show Pee Break - MISSED!

Darren’s show ‘Hedwig’ doesn’t have an interval. Instead, it has one long enduring 90 minutes or so, in which Darren must remain on stage almost all the time, with no chance of a break for a sit down, bottle of water, or pee break. And it’s the latter which is the most important. This is why, ten minutes before Darren goes on stage, he takes care to use the bathroom joined on to his dressing room. Pretty much every other actor and musician onstage with him is also peeing at this time, which occasionally makes Darren chuckle as he does his business. During his first few shows, the mixture of having to hold his pee in combined with the adrenaline inducing nerves of being on stage meant he usually needed the toilet by the final song. But it was never too bad and he could always hold it in. Tonight however, he isn’t quite sure.

He had been running late all afternoon. First, he lost the keys to his apartment which meant a panic filled twenty minutes of looking for them, before finding them under the microwave. He figures he must have put them down after coming in late last night- so tired he could only microwave a bowl of soup before going to bed, texting Chris goodnight before falling asleep. Then there had been double the amount of usual fans waiting for him by the stage door. He had stopped to admire one girl’s poster- a fantastic paini,tng of him as Hedwig- but once he stopped for one person, he felt like he had to stop to admire _everyone_ ’s posters. It wasn’t until Bobby physically pushed him through the gates that he managed to get away. Then, there was a spontaneous cast meeting inside the theatre, where he and Rebecca were told of some minor changes that needed changing. And on top of that, Darren managed to smudge his eye makeup as soon as it was finished being applied, resulting in another ten minutes of redoing it.

And all of that had meant Darren had been denied time to do the one most important thing: pee.

He doesn’t even remember that he hasn’t peed until halfway through the show. Feeling the familiar press against his stomach, he wonders why his bladder is feeling so full so early. And then it hits him. He hasn’t done his pre-show pee.

Trying not to panic as he continues singing on stage, Darren’s mind is racing. The last time he peed was before he eft his apartment – three hours ago. He’s drunk the same amount of water than he normally does, meaning his pee schedule was running one hour overdue. He knows he has a strong bladder, but with all Hedwig’s jumping around and the added urgency of knowing he definitely could _not_ pee for another forty minutes? This wasn’t going to be fun.

Darren tries not to think about the growing urgency in his bladder at first. It proves quite easy, slipping back into the character of Hedwig and convincing himself that if Hedwig doesn’t need to pee, then neither does he. But then suddenly, with ten minutes to go before the end of the show, he gets an alarming pang of desperation in his pants. His body needs to go, and it needs to go _now._

Standing under the hot lights of the stage, Darren squeezes his thighs together as he starts to sing the beginning of ‘Wicked Little Town’. His legs shake slightly, stomach bulging with piss and as he looks down he can see that it’s visible, that people will think he’s bloated. He tries to press his thighs together tighter, but it just reiterates the pressure that’s slowly building up inside him. A bead of sweat rolls down his back and he knows it’s because he’s so _fucking desperate_ but all he can do is clench onto the microphone stand harder, trying to hide the fact that he’s so close to pissing himself right here on this stage in front of the hundreds of people watching him.

He can feel the audiences eyes staring at him, knows that if he leaks even the tiniest bit, someone will notice, someone will have it recorded on their phone forever and ever for the whole internet to see. His face automatically tenses as he feels how full he is, how badly he needs to pee right now. But with each word he says he gets closer to finishing the show and being able to pee, he figures.

Finally, the song is over and there are only a few minutes or so before Darren can go pee. But whilst it’s only the curtain call left, it’s a curtain call in which Darren must smile and remain his usual bouncy, fun loving self, jumping all over the stage with Rebecca. He looks into her eyes, and she’s smiling as usual, has failed to know that something is wrong. Darren smiles and fiddles with the waist band of his short in an effort to calm down his body, to comfort it and let his belly know it was going to be alright. But it doesn’t work, and Darren’s left fighting the ever growing need to pee. As the audience start clapping and Darren moves about the stage, pointing to various members of the band and Rebecca, his body can take no more. He turns his back and relaxes a little bit- the audience can no longer see his face so it allows for one brief second of calmness- but it seems he relaxes too much. His stomach muscles stop tensing for a millisecond but it’s too late- Darren freezes in horror as he leaks a tiny bit of piss. It’s a small amount but an amount nonetheless- he can feel the wetness seep into the thin material of his thong, no doubt making a dark black stain on it. He allows himself a brief moment to look down and assess the damage, head pounding in panic as he focusses on clenching his muscles extra hard. Looking down, he can’t make out any mark but it’s hard to know what the audience can see. Turning round and forcing a smile, Darren tries to prevent any more accidents, running into chest bump Rebecca before waving to the audience, almost sprinting once he’s allowed to exit the stage.

‘Well done guys!’ Rebecca calls out once they’re all back stage. Everyone is smiling and panting, the faint smell of sweat lingering in the air like it does every time a show’s finished. Darren tries to smile too, but allows a quick hold of his junk, giving himself a reassuring squeeze in the pretence of adjusting himself. His body aches to let it all go, bladder pressing against his waistband as his head pounds. He walks off; almost jogging to his dressing room, but Rebecca stops him first.

‘Hey, Darren? Is it okay if I go use your shower quickly? Mine’s broken and I have a dinner to get to in twenty minutes. Is that okay?’

‘Yeah, sure?’ Darren grimaces, cursing himself for being too nice. Hopefully Rebecca would be quick and he could go pee soon. He didn’t want to use the toilets available to the crew- he had his own toilet in his dressing room, and if he used any other it would be obvious he was too desperate to wait to use his own. No, Darren was stronger than that. Making his way to his dressing room, he sits down on a chair, crossing his legs and tapping his fingers on his leg absent mindedly, trying to distract himself.

‘Darren?’

It’s Bobby, knocking on the door before opening it.

‘Hi!’ Darren says trying to look cheerful.

‘There’s a large crowd out there tonight- it might be best to get out of here asap if you want any chance of going home in the next few hours. Pus I have that family thing I told you about…’

Bobby looks at Darren meaningfully, trying to jolt Darren’s memory.

‘Family thing?’

‘I told you- I have to be going in an hour. So you know, if you want to do the whole fan thing, you gotta be leaving in five minutes.’

‘Oh- yeah, of course!’ Darren smiles again, dying inside. His bladder is begging him for some release, begging to let go again like it did on stage. But now Darren has to get changed and leave the theatre now, and won’t get time to use his toilet. Rebecca is already in the shower, but Darren knows she won’t come out in time.

‘I’ll wait outside for you,’ Bobby says, closing the door.

Now by himself, Darren panics. At one point he considers letting go into the sink behind him, but he knows better. College had told him that peeing into a sink only makes the whole room smell like pee, and if Rebecca was coming out of his bathroom, she would for sure know what was happened. So, allowing himself to squeeze his junk for a whole thirty seconds, Darren wipes his makeup off, sprays on some deodorant, and gets dressed, leaving the theatre with his bag.

Outside, Darren just wants to run into the car so he can get home to his apartment and attend to the growing problem in his bladder. But he’s hit by the screams of at least three hundred people, and the sound makes him lose control and leak a bit more again. He’s glad to have changed into boxer briefs and be wearing black jeans but still, he needs to hurry. Forcing a smile, he begins to work his way down the crowd, trying to appear happy in their videos and signing their playbills.

He’s jiggling up and down though- too much, it seems, when one girl asks him how he’s still so energetic.

‘What?’ Daren says, looking up at her.

‘You’re still jumping up and down! Aren’t you even tired?’ she asks, taking care to film his every move on her iPhone.

Darren shrugs, trying to laugh it off.

‘That’s just me man! You guys give me so much energy, you know? When I see you guys I can’t be sad, you make me so happy! But yeah, when I will get home I will pretty much sleep.’

He takes care to smile again, bladder silently screaming as it yearns for release.

Finally, Bobby taps him on the shoulder.

‘We gotta go,’ he says quietly, Darren pretending to look sad but secretly rejoicing inside.

‘Okay guys!’ he tells the fans. ‘I gotta go early tonight- I know, I know’ he says, feeling guilty at the protests from fans who didn’t get to speak to him. ‘But I’m really, super grateful to you guys for coming to see me and for standing out here for ages- and- and I love you! Bye!’ He can’t run off so he skips, the usual laughter of fans surrounding him. But this time it feels like they’re laughing _at_ him.

He collapses into the car, glad for the solidarity of just him, the driver and Bobby. He’s alone in the back seat so he puts his bag over his lap, sneaking his hand under to grab at his crotch, squeezing tight. It makes the build-up of pee inside feel slightly more bearable, though he still winces every time the car jostles and bumps. His mind is racing as they drive through the streets of New York, he’s already holding his apartment keys, ready to run to his bathroom and finally pee.

Luckily there’s no one around, so Bobby doesn’t bother to get out and walk Darren to his apartment block. Stopping just outside it Darren gets out, saying goodbye and trying not to run inside. He nods to the receptionist as he steps into a lift, intent on being as fast as possible. But just when it stops and he gets out on his floor, his phone rings.

Even in his desperate state, he can’t help but smile when he sees that it’s Chris, Answering it, he tries to maintain his rush to his door, beginning to unlock it.

‘Hey,’ he says, trying to make his voice sound normal. ‘How you doing?’

‘I’m good,’ Chris says on the other end of the line. ‘Just wanted to speak to you.’

‘Uh huh? Hold on a sec, I’m just getting in my apartment-‘

Darren opens the door and hurries inside, sitting down against his door as he’s final given privacy. Squirming about, he continues to speak.

‘I’ve been missing you,’ Chris moans, intentions obvious.

Darren swears. As much as he loves phone sex, now is really not the time.

‘Have you?’ Darren asks, deciding to play dumb as he slips his hand down his jeans to grab his penis, squeezing it as he leaks out a drop of piss, the desperation too much to bear now.

‘Yeah,’ Chris continues, oblivious to what Darren is doing. ‘I’ve been waiting to talk to you _all day_.’

‘S-same,’ Darren stutters, voice getting high pitched.

‘I can tell,’ Chris says, mistaking Darren’s urgency of needing to pee for urgency of wanting to come. ‘I’m so hard, D. I wish you could touch me.’

‘Er, yeah,’ Darren keeps up, now bum-shuffling his way to the toilet, not wanting to risk standing up. ‘Erm- do you mind holding on for one second- I gotta pee.’

‘What?’ Chris asks, a little surprised at how unsexy Darren’s being tonight. ‘Can’t you hold it?’

‘Well, no,’ Darren says, almost shouting now. He leaks again but this time it’s more and the liquid seeps through, a warmth spreading to the front of his jeans. ‘Oh fuck,’ h can’t help but say, forgetting Chrs can hear him.

‘Are you alright?’

‘What-yeah, fine,’ Darren lies, now reaching his bathroom door. He reaches up to open it, still unable to stand.

‘Good. Now, as I was saying…’ Chris continues, a world away where he is in LA, sprawled naked over his bed and stroking his erection. ‘I wish you were touching me, could feel how _hard_ I am for you right now.’

‘Mmmm!’ Daren says, before frowning at his response. _This isn’t food_ he tells himself. _Stop being so fucking weird._ But his bladder’s still protesting and his mind fogs over, body intent on peeing- _now_.

He takes a step up in an effort to pull down his pants and finally pee but the most he can manage is to stand before he knows it’s too much and he collapses onto the toilet, still wearing his jeans and underwear.

‘Chris,’ he says suddenly, intending to stop the conversation. ‘I have to-‘

‘Darren you can’t be coming _already_ ,’ Chris complains, rolling his eyes at his desperate boyfriend. ‘We’ve just started! Tell me how you-‘

He’s cut off by a long sigh from Darren. Sitting on the toilet has triggered his body to make it want to pee more than ever and now, he finally is. Unable to hold in the burning sensation any longer, he releases, piss flooding his jeans and creating a visible wet patch where he is soaking the fabric. It’s warm and pleasurable, body finally releasing after over two hours of needing to pee, and Darren sighs some more as he sinks his head down in his hands, still holding the phone to his ear. Once through the fabric, his pee makes a loud noise as it hits the water in the toilet, Darren feeling like he’s never going to stop peeing, so much of it is coming out. The room smells like pee too, and Darren blushes at how childlike he feel,s unable to escape from his clothes before wetting himself, even if he _did_ make it to the toilet. Finally, his body loosens up and feels free, the stream of piss reducing to a gentle trickle before stopping altogether.

‘Darren?’ Chris says on the end of the phone. ‘Did you just cum?’

Darren is jogged back to reality, now faced with an annoyed Chris on the phone and a pair of jeans needing to be put in the washing machine asap.

‘Yeah,’ he lies, knowing he sounds stupid. ‘I guess you’re voice just did it for me.’

Chris takes it as a compliment, even if he is slightly surprised, given Darren usually lasts a good half hour during phone sex.

‘You’re still in bed,right? Talk dirty to me till I cum.’

Darren does, keeping up the pretence of being horny and in bed as he strips his clothes off and washes them, wiping up the few drips of pee that are on the floor with loo roll. Chris doesn’t need to know the truth about the situation. He’s not sure what Chris’s reaction would be if he found out he was jerking off to a Darren clearing up his own piss, but he has a feeling it wouldn’t be good.


End file.
